Alright, so maybe the writer in your life isn’t selfish. But it’s almost certain that they feel that way from time to time, so don’t feel too bad if the thought has also crossed your mind. Writing is an emotionally demanding task, and I mean truly demanding in the sense that it subjects you to a clamorous nagging of infinite possibilities and word choice, the churning of emotions that have to be relived and closely examined to be rendered on the page, constantly seeking a choice writing environment, solitude, and infinite time. It’s a sad reality that when we writers give our energy and spend our time with others, there isn’t always much left for writing, so when we dedicate ourselves to our craft we are effectively giving the people we love less attention. While we are empaths at heart, sometimes we put the inner lives of our characters before our own and the people we care most about. And it seems we always need more time, more space to work on our goals. We won’t text or call back for hours because we are lost in imaginary worlds. I know some writers who even embrace being selfish, celebrate it insidiously. Their IG handle is “Author. Blogger. Selfish BUT I’M OK WITH THAT AT THIS POINT IN MY WRITING CAREER SO NO NEGATIVE VIBES PLZ.” And sure, there are writers who castigate their selfishness, but sometimes they can’t help but still be selfish. It’s as if they’re compelled. I happen to think George Orwell said it best when he wrote,

“All writers are vain, selfish and lazy, and at the very bottom of their motives lies a mystery. Writing a book is a long, exhausting struggle, like a long bout of some painful illness. One would never undertake such a thing if one were not driven by some demon whom one can neither resist nor understand.”

A writer’s craft is demanding of them, and at times maybe even demanding of you. It can feel like they’re wasting your time. On vacations, they insist on retreating in solitude to write. They always beg you to come to one reading after another. In all honesty, we probably just wrote you another poem for your birthday, but if you still want to get us a gift, here are seven failproof suggestions.

Hattie Stewart

1. Time. We writers spend a large portion of our life inhabiting other worlds, asking for more “me time,” and we spend more time looking at our screens than a dozen millennials combined.  That’s because so much of writing is not finishing the novel, just getting started on another new project, or simply not being able to dedicate more time to our craft because of work, school, kids, relationships, or numerous other real-world demands. In other words, so much of writing is just wishing you had more time to write.

Unfortunately, having a relationship, romantic or otherwise, with a writer can often feel very isolating. Maybe you don’t see them as much as you’d like, or when you are together they have their nose in a book or their fingers on the keyboard. Maybe you’ll be in the middle of a conversation and they suddenly open their notebook and start scribbling away because what you said would be perfect for the dialogue they’ve been working on in chapter five. I can’t tell you how many times I’ve gotten a (perhaps well deserved) side eye for delaying plans because “I’m just in the writing zone right now, please don’t be mad.” It’s almost inevitable that at some point in time the writer in your life is going to flake. And when they do, if you can, give them the gift of time. Get a couple of movie passes and go with someone else. When I’m writing, the sound of people I love breathing is like Taylor Swift’s nails on a chalkboard. There is nothing so sweet as those seven words, “I’ll let you get back to writing” followed by the sound of silence. It is a generous and darling gift, we know. Sorry if we are too selfish to say, thank you.

3. The gift of hype. Does the writer in your life have a blog, an upcoming show, a dope Instagram account? Share their accomplishments and general self on your social media. Post their writing and tag literary journals and art magazines that share similar work. If there is one thing every writer I know wants more of, it’s readership.

Red Light Lit

4. A website. A lot of websites have super cheap plans, and a lot of freelance web designers work for reasonable rates. If your writer has a blog or a podcast or has expressed interest in having one, pay for the first year of their website. It will help them advertise their reading schedule, organize their projects and promote their work. I feel so many writers are in a constant struggle for legitimacy, and a professional website will definitely help to establish their brand.

Brooke DiDonato

5. Art. Artists love art. It’s not rocket science. Does your writer follow an artist that sells prints of their work? Easy peasy. It’s a known fact that the more art a person has, the more they feel like a sophisticated sonnofabitch. Writers are arrogant, and so is art. Did you ever see a movie where the most arrogant bastard’s home wasn’t filled with expensive art? I didn’t think so. Whatever. Just buy art. Give art. Buy some more art. Repeat. Or turn into Donald Trump, whatever. It’s your life.

Sonja Gadés

6. Music streaming. Buy your writer a subscription to their favorite music streaming site so they can write ad-free and can stay in the zone. Nothing breaks the flow of creativity like a Geico ad.

7. A robe. Ok this one is a little more universal as far as gifts go, but if you only knew how many writing days I have spent like a cavewoman- never getting out of the clothes that I slept in (I start writing as soon as the caffeine kicks in and try to stay as present as possible for as long as I can), never leaving my house, not brushing my hair, hell, or even my teeth. When you get into the writing groove you can start to feel a little un-evolved. Help the writer in your life look stylish during their cabin fever with the gift of a refined robe. Because nothing says “I’m a writer,” than waiting till evening to finally put on your clothes.

Austin Motel Shorty Robe, $115

(Cover image by Camila Mormandi)

As some of you may know, my first book, Life’s Too Short, is being released this month(!!!) So for this round of OMISSIONS, I thought it would be interesting to share with you one of the stories I ultimately cut from the series to make it a more cohesive collection. I’ve heard so many writers refer to this process as “killing our little darlings.” With writers, it’s always life or death.

We labored through sweat and tears to bring these words into the world, and now we’re supposed to erase them, delete them from existence, these little pieces of ourselves?  Don’t we writers suffer enough?

Oh hush, you know you love it. The suffering that is, not the editing. But any great piece of writing is always edited, always suffered over. I remember the first day in my MFA program, the professor made us write a two-page story, then cut one word from every sentence, and one sentence from every paragraph. It was incredibly difficult to do when I first started writing and still is. And though I don’t think you ever stop mourning for certain words, certain sentences, certain stories which are never published, the writing gets stronger, and eventually so do we.

Photographs from the series, The Jersey Shore, by Bay Area photographer Christine Zona http://www.zonafoto.net/

I even refer to the word document where I put all of the large cuts I make as “the graveyard.” I know I probably won’t end up using 99% of it (own that confidence, writer, you made those cuts for a reason), but it feels appropriate, safe, respectful to honor those feelings and emotions. What about you? What is your editing process like? Do you have your little darlings? How do you let them go? Is yoga involved?

And before I forget, please, join me for my book release on March 30th at Alley Cat Books in San Francisco. Endless thanks to Fourteen Hills Press and Small Press Distribution. Hope to see some of you there 🙂

The Memory of Your Mouth Slick with Mezcal

When we kissed, your breath knotted me temple to tail. I felt bound, yet unsaved. The memory of your mouth, slick with mezcal, is immortal. But time giveth and taketh, sands our fingerprints from the wall. Your scent (amnesiatic fluid, gasoline, semen) ignites fire behind walls of scars in my rug burned hands and knees. But your memory will not illuminate my jilted flesh, the landscape you forfeit each passing day the telephone never rings.

You wanted me to be good. I do not apologize I tasted your mouth, scarred the crossroads of my body with your teeth, slick with mezcal. Better to be wild than be paradise.

Yes, we should all aspire to be writing, writing, writing, but sometimes in a rare moment, a piece is complete. Whether it has been polished to gleaning perfection, or you’re making the same cuts and uncuts, changing the color of the sunset/cat/noun from tangerine to cantaloupe back to tangerine, sometimes you gotta just be the mama bird and push your precious darling out of the nest. That’s when it’s time to submit.

Remember: literary journals want to read your word bouquets. Send them while they’re fresh!

I’m discovering that I love submitting. I’m discovering new journals that are full of inspiring artists. Plus I love seeing my submittable submission list get longer and longer. It feels like I’m kicking those tiny little DECLINED boxes’ asses with all the new PENDING, IN PROGRESS, and ACCEPTED(!) boxes I’m adding. And some journals even pay you. Ka-ching.

My advice as a former fiction editor and everyday freelancer is to submit to at least five different journals at a time, as often as you can. When you get one rejection, it can give you a false feeling of how your piece reads. Rejected by two or three, you can get stuck in the I suck spiral, and throw in the towel. Which is the exact opposite of what you should be doing. Keep submitting. I often submit the same piece to up to a dozen places at a time (most journals are fine with simultaneous submissions, so long as you give them a heads up in your cover letter.) Finding a journal for your work is so often about whether the fit is just right. That’s it. Your job is to submit. The editor’s job is to see if it’s a good fit (though you should at least be somewhat familiar with the journal. Are they formal, experimental, etc.).

As far as the cover letter, I often find three sentences is plenty cool. It’s just obnoxious when you write anymore than that unless they specifically ask for it. Editors have hundreds of submissions to read ALL OF THE TIME. Say hello, mention what you’re submitting, thank them for their loveliness and support of the literary arts in your own words, and attach a bio if they ask for one (where you studied, where you’re published, if you really love your cat.)

Being January, plenty of journals are beginning to read for their Spring issues. Below are seven I’ve submitted to or really enjoyed perusing that you should totally submit to. Like now, girl. Good luck!

Guernica Photograph by Emmett Race and Alejandro Santiago

Guernica is a magazine of global art and politics. With contributors from every continent and at every stage of their careers, it’s a home for singular voices, incisive ideas, and critical questions. Submit poetry and fiction aqui.

From Alina Vergano’s Puzzled Exhibit featured on Paper Darts.

Paper Darts Website is super simple yet colorful and funky. They keep it super fresh and simple: click on lit to read some new rad lit, click on art to look at some dope new art. Submit your own right here.

With an emphasis on work that moves the reader, Rattle is accessible, lovely, and intriguing. They publish big names like Dunn and Levine and emerging authors alike. Submit your prose, poetry, and art here.

Featured in Hobart (instagram.com/bryanbowie)

Hobart does print and web in such a stylish way that my eyes just feel good looking at it. Poetry, fiction, and non-fiction welcome. Submit here.

Nyarai by Paul Lewin

Fourteen Hills can be fairly experimental, so this is a great place to submit if you’ve got something beautiful and bizarre. You can submit poetry, prose, and experimental work twice a year, and right now you can enter their Stacy Doris Memorial Poetry Contest for free. Winner gets $500, and all other poetry is considered for publication in their Spring issue. Pretty cool. Check it out.

untitled photo by Galen Lott

Concīs is an online and e-pub journal centered on brevity: “the succinct, pithy, condensed, laconic, crisp, compressed and compendious.” Submit poems, prose poems, flash fictions, micro-essays, reviews in miniature, sudden fictions, haiku, tanka, American Sentences, insights, and epigrams. What I really like is that the author can choose to donate their payment to charity and Concīs will match it.

A Public Space is an independent magazine of literature and culture founded in 2006 by Brigid Hughes, former Executive Editor of The Paris Review. It is gorgeous and adored by big names in the writing world. They’ve published authors from all over the world, and submissions are free. Submit poetry, fiction and nonfiction here.

Good luck my fellow writers! I look forward to reading your work in print and online 🙂